


anyone here in need of some pep?

by ficfucker



Series: shane wearing skirts [1]
Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: Crossdressing, Crossdressing Kink, Established Relationship, Facials, Forced Crossdressing, Forced Feminization, Hand Jobs, Kink Negotiation, M/M, Oral Sex, im just GOING IN on tags, it gives me life, it has also brought u this fic, some of these tags are loose in the fic, with shane in a skirt?, yall seen the crossfit vid?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-15
Updated: 2018-01-15
Packaged: 2019-03-05 01:50:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13377585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ficfucker/pseuds/ficfucker
Summary: ryan wants shane to wear a skirt





	anyone here in need of some pep?

“You wore it on camera! In-In-In front of literal _millions_!” Ryan argued. He was red in the face, feeling more foolish than he had in a long, long time, his heart thrumming in his throat like a mantra of drums.

“Because I was _forced_ to, Ryan!” Shane laughed like he was amused and exhausted at the same time, before adding, chopped with giggles, “It was a _punishment_ for skipping _crossfit_!”

Ryan had been trying to figure out how to pose the idea of Shane wearing a skirt for him for weeks, and here they were now, the red skirt Ryan had bought and the matching top displayed on the bed between them, both incredibly flustered and flushed pink. Shane, of course, thought it was ridiculous and was making half-hearted digs at Ryan, though did not appear to be completely opposed to it, while Ryan tried to argue that kinks could be fun and healthy and that no, he was not in fact, that weird of a guy.

Ryan deflated slightly, his shoulders shrinking down from the defensive tightness they had risen up to in the last couple minutes. “Just give it a try?” he offered.

“And if I don’t?” Shane tried with a sly grin. “Gonna keep masturbating to the thought of me _dominating_ you in a cheerleader’s outfit?”

A shudder was working its way up to rippling through Ryan, but he steeled himself, and rolled his eyes, muttering, “Oh, fuck you, Shane.”

Shane leaned over and picked up the red top, sashed with a white stripe down the middle, a cliche tribute to the classic, and he held it to his chest. “How am I supposed to do this? Just… hop into it or go into the bathroom and reveal myself like a, uh, a virgin bride?” he asked.

“Oh, suddenly change your mind?” Ryan taunted despite himself.

“Fine, fine, I won’t wear it then.”

But regardless of his claim, Shane tossed the outfit into his arms and made his way to the bathroom, turning his head over his shoulder once he was in the doorway and blowing a dramatic kiss at Ryan who huffed in response.

The door clicked shut and Ryan all but collapsed onto the bed, his head hanging down into his hands, his elbows propped on his thighs.

Ryan didn’t even know how he hadn’t gotten so hung up on the idea in the first place. He had seen the crossfit video numerous times, hell, he was part of it, but one viewing must’ve struck a chord because the thought burrowed into him. Christ, he was already half hard just sitting there, dwelling on it.

He couldn’t exactly name which category this situation would fall under. It wasn’t forced feminization, there had been kink negotiation, but Ryan wasn’t treating Shane like a doll, nor would he want to. Maybe it was borderline humiliation, to have Shane be in charge over him, still more masculine and dominate, even while in a traditionally female outfit.

Maybe Shane was just hot.

Stupid hot Shane.

“Ready for me?”

Ryan was zapped back to reality and he sat up straight, letting his palms settle to the top of his thighs, looking like a mannequin. “Y-Yeah,” he said. “Come on out.”

Shane let the door swing open and he rested an arm vertical to the frame, his hips jutted out like an abstract painting, thighs poised at such an angle, it would make Picasso hard. “Anyone here in need of some _pep_?” he asked in a breathy tone.

Ryan’s eyes went wide and he felt his face warm all the way to the tips of his ears, and he opened his mouth to comment something snarky, maybe even laugh, but couldn’t get his brain to reign in enough focus to form words.

“Are you _serious,_ dude?” Shane grinned. “ _This_ is turning you on?”

Ryan nodded furiously. His fingers were flexing around the denim of his jeans, clenching then releasing, similar to kneading in which a cat does on blankets.

Crossing the room, Shane stopped so he was standing in front of Ryan and pulled at the edge of the red top, short enough that even when Shane tugged, it didn’t cover most of his stomach, navel and hips exposed. “I look like a Ken doll that raided Polly Pocket’s wardrobe.”

Ryan was dumb as bricks. He wanted to laugh. Nothing came out.

“Gotta admit, though, this one fits better than the one the crossfitters made me wear,” Shane remarked. “Feel like I’m supposed to be stretching out right now. You get me pom poms, too, Ryan?”

“Shut up, Shane.”

At least he was talking.

“Oh, so he _can_ speak!” Shane exclaimed, feigning surprise.

Ryan scowled and reached out, fingering the fabric of the skirt, praying Shane would get the message and get closer, bend down and kiss him, touch between his legs, rub at the painfully obvious erection he was sporting, grip his thighs and-

A mouth nudged against Ryan’s and his thoughts cooled immediately, doused by the soft feeling of Shane’s lips, his tongue parting Ryan’s lips and getting him to moan quietly, pathetically.

Still holding the kiss, Shane drooped down a bit more and somehow situated himself into Ryan’s lap; more so, _onto_ Ryan’s lap so he was straddling the younger man, slender knees placed on either side of Ryan’s hips.

With about a centimeter between their mouths, Ryan’s still slack, ajar from the kiss, Shane whispered, “Got any other outfits planned for me?”

Ryan’s mind was churning water and he took the question more seriously than intended, sputtering out, “Other outfits? No, I-not yet?” His hands stumbled onto Shane’s hips and lulled there, feeling smaller than usual under his boyfriend, his fingertips toying at the skirt.

A smirk split Shane’s face, abrupt as a pocket knife flashing open, and he trailed his smile down Ryan’s chin, to his throat, kissing the hollows of his collarbones, Ryan’s shirt caught between his teeth.

Christ, Ryan was weak.

He dragged his hands up Shane’s sides intentionally then fumbled to pull off his own shirt, frantic as if he were in flames, and finally tossed it to the side.

Shane continued where he had left off, wriggling out of Ryan’s lap and kneeling, placing kisses haphazardly down his chest, his stomach, to the arch of his hip bones. Gentle, chaste kisses, too innocent in parallel to Ryan’s arousal.

Above this, Ryan was a babbling mess, his hand pressed tightly over his mouth, palm moist from his own humid panting. He only allowed select few words to escape, a small, dire, “Shane…!” or a curse slipped in.

Shane’s mouth found Ryan’s erection and tongued lazily over it, through the thick denim of his jeans, a wet spot composed there from Shane’s saliva.

Ryan jerked in response and gripped Shane’s hair hard, maybe too hard, blunt fingernails digging into the top of his head, and Ryan whimpered some unintelligible plea, his eyebrows cinched together.

As Shane’s fingers pinched Ryan’s slider, ready to pull it down the silver track of his zipper, Ryan went to stop him, pushing him away. His eyes were dark and round, like he owed something to Shane.

Shane tilted his head forward and _nuzzled_ against Ryan’s clothed cock.

Holy fuck.

“Come on, Bergara, let me blow you under the bleachers,” Shane said, swooping his eyes up to meet Ryan’s desperate gaze.

Something constricted deep in Ryan’s lower stomach and his grip softened to cup the side of Shane’s face, tracing the outline of his jaw, heart rabbiting in his chest.

Shane went back to unzipping Ryan’s jeans, pulling them off carefully, his boxers, too, and Ryan sucked in a breath as his cock sprung up almost cartoonishly and pressed against his stomach.

Little pearls of precum were beading at the tip and Shane took Ryan’s cock in his hands, pressing little licks to the tip, as though he were a kitten, lapping up the translucent drops.

“Y-Y-You don’t have to,” Ryan moaned. “Shane, I can-You really d-don’t have to…”

He felt a bit guilty, having been the one who offered the idea, who suggested something sexual, and now Shane was on his knees, ready to please him.

To this, Shane spit into his palm, gripped the base of Ryan’s cock, and wrapped his lips around the top, bobbing his head up and down passionately, spontaneously enough to get Ryan to arc his head back and choke around a moan.

“O-Oh, fuck…!” was the extent of Ryan’s thought process and ability to speak.

Shane worked his way down Ryan’s shaft until his cock was pressing to the back of Shane’s throat and he gagged somewhat, his throat tightening around Ryan and he cried out at the feeling. Ryan wanted more than anything to buck his hips forward, thrust into the velvety softness of Shane’s mouth, but sitting the way he was, didn’t have the right leverage. Rather, he just dug his teeth into his bottom lip and gripped Shane’s hair, fist curled into a bouquet of brown grass.

Pulling off him, Shane smiled up at Ryan and panted hard, the warmth of his breath radiating over Ryan’s sensitive head, and smiled up at his lover, who was nearly a puddle of lust on the edge of the bed. He kept working his hand, building speed, wrist twisting at times, and getting Ryan to squirm under his touch.

“You like when I wear this skirt for you, Ryan?” Shane asked. His voice was deeper than normal, hoarse, too.

Ryan turned his chin up and away, his grip loosening so he was caressing the back of Shane’s head, and he whined. “M-Mhm…”

“Bet you want to cum all over my face when I wear this skirt for you, huh, Ryan?” Shane pressed.

“I… F-Fuck, yes…,” Ryan cried, his hips easing up to meet Shane’s aggressive gropes, shamelessly trying to hump into his fist, rutting uselessly in an attempt to find more friction in Shane’s palm.

“Do it for me, baby.” Shane let his eyes flutter shut and he eased his face nearer to the tip of Ryan’s cock, his mouth hanging open slightly, waiting for his command to be completed.

Ryan’s canines dug deeper into his lip until he tasted the sharp tange of metal, knowing he had broken skin, and he rutted harder, rocking back and forth on the bed so it squeaked quietly beneath him. He was panting, eyes seamed shut, and his clutch on Shane’s head resumed, steeling him in place as his balls tightened and his stomach warmed more than he thought it could.

Shane whispered another order, but Ryan’s mind was so erratic with desire, he couldn’t place the words for what they were.

“A-Ah, Shane, I-I’m gonna…!” Ryan whimpered.

Following this, Ryan’s cock head released a steady, messy stream of white, pattering against Shane’s face, painting the highlights of his cheekbones, a drop landing in his hair; Ryan felt, through his closed eyes, one directive tug on his cock and when he opened his eyes he noticed Shane had moved it downward so his last spurts of cum had landed on the front of Shane’s top.

“Good boy,” Shane praised. His right eyelid was half drooped, the lid slick with a trail of cum that was threatening to blind him on that side, and God, Ryan found it more hot than he should have.

“I…,” Ryan started, cupping Shane’s chin and beckoning him closer to his mouth. “Think I owe you one.”

Shane smiled so his eyes crinkled shut. “You at least owe me dry cleaning.”

Ryan swallowed a giggle, pressing his tongue to Shane’s eyelid to kiss away his cum.

**Author's Note:**

> had fun with this one
> 
> hope you enjoyed and don't forget to leave kudos !
> 
> thank you for reading !


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